


Hermione Granger and the Jealous Ferret

by DayDreamer1123



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-05-05
Updated: 2017-05-05
Packaged: 2019-03-18 19:32:19
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,742
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13688304
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DayDreamer1123/pseuds/DayDreamer1123
Summary: When Hermione Granger makes up a boyfriend who doesn't attend Hogwarts, one Slytherin isn't happy. Draco Malfoy won't stand for the rumors that are spreading—because he's the only one who can claim his girlfriend.





	Hermione Granger and the Jealous Ferret

“Did you hear?” Pansy Parkinson elbowed her way between Draco Malfoy and Blaise Zabini at the Slytherin table in the Great Hall.

 

Blaise groaned. “If you're going to tell us more gossip about the underclassmen, I'm not interested. Why couldn't any of your girlfriends return for eighth year?”

 

Pansy glared at him. “Seeing as most of them are dead, can you really blame them? Now shut up.”

 

Under his breath, Blaise muttered something about her dead friends being the lucky ones not to have to listen to her anymore, and she kicked his shin, making him yelp in pain.

 

Draco rolled his eyes; Blaise needed to learn. If he’d just ignore Pansy, she’d eventually go away. Show no interest. Don’t encourage her. And _definitely_ don’t piss her off. It’s not like she’d ever say anything interesting, anyway.

 

Shifting her focus to Draco, Pansy wove her arm through his. “As I was _saying_ ,” she glared at Blaise, “Granger claims to have a boyfriend. As if anyone would want that walking disaster.”

 

Draco choked on the chicken he'd just taken a bite of, and Blaise pounded him on the back. _That_ was not what he'd expected Pansy to say. Even if it had become her very unfortunate habit to use them as sounding boards for all the latest gossip.

 

When he could speak again, Draco croaked, “A-a boyfriend? Did she say _who_?”

 

Pansy cackled—seriously _cackled_ —and shook her head. “Claims it's a big secret. I heard he went to Durmstrang. Can't be Krum, though. He's dating some famous Veela. Like I said, I don't believe her story for one minute. Nobody wants that girl. Even her best friends couldn't bother to come back to Hogwarts with her, and—”

 

“Will you just shut up already?” Draco shouted, slamming a fist on the table.

 

Pansy and Blaise stared at him. “What's crawled up your arse, mate?” Blaise asked with a laugh.

 

Draco could feel his cheeks heating as all eyes turned to him, and his gaze clashed with the Muggle-born in question. Her cheeks turned pink, as if she knew exactly what they were discussing.

 

He looked back down at his food. “Nothing,” he finally spit out. “I'm fine.”

 

But he wasn’t. The news ate at him as he went from class to class, listening to the whispers circulating among the student body. Everyone seemed to have an opinion, a theory. And it was driving him insane.

 

“He’s older,” someone said.

 

“A Healer, I heard,” responded another.

 

“No, an Auror. Works with Harry and Ron.”

 

“I’m told it _is_ Ron.”

 

“I think he’s a muggle. Someone said she’s known him forever and fell for him over summer break.”

 

Draco ground his teeth, holding back the emotions threatening to erupt from him. And then it happened. The final straw. The toothpick that broke the Hippogriff’s back.

 

“I heard,” Lavender Brown said loudly, “that the prude finally gave up her virginity. Let her new guy fuck her brains out.”

 

Draco growled, and the group looked his way. “And where,” he asked with menace, “did you hear that?”

 

“I’m not sure why _you’d_ care,” Lavender responded, glaring at Draco, “but in our dorm. From the little princess herself.”

 

That was it. He couldn’t take it anymore. Turning, Draco stormed down the corridor, leaving a gaggle of girls gaping after him.

 

* * *

 

 

Hermione Granger huddled at her favorite table in the library, trying to study as Luna and Ginny sat on either side of her, barraging her with questions. They were no better than any of the other classmates she’d talked to throughout the day. Everyone wanted to know who she was dating, what he looked like, where they’d met, why nobody had ever seen them together. Hermione had an urge hurt someone. But she had nobody to blame but herself.

 

“Is he a muggle? I heard he’s a muggle. Why won’t you tell me?” Ginny whispered, earning a glare from Madam Pince.

 

“Did you meet him hunting for Nargles?” Luna wanted to know.

 

Why would Hermione make up such a lie? Maybe because she knew nobody would believe the truth, and if they did, they couldn’t handle it. But with everyone around her coupled off—Luna and Neville, Ginny and Harry (even if Harry wasn’t at school)—and Spring fever running rampant through the castle, she had to do something to get her matchmaking friends off her back.

 

So she’d made up a boyfriend, told a tale of a boy she’d fallen for over the holidays. What could it hurt? Except that now everyone was much more interested in her personal life than they had been before. And she wasn’t sure how to get them to back off.

 

“Granger,” a voice said from behind her, and Luna and Ginny suddenly shushed.

 

Hermione spun slowly and met the steely gaze of Draco Malfoy. The red tint to his cheeks and the ice in his eyes told her he was very angry. Yet another side effect of her ridiculous story.

 

“Malfoy.”

 

Glancing from her friends to her, he asked, “Can I have a word? Alone?” Shifting his attention to Ginny and Luna, he said, “We’re paired up on a project for Potions.” And then he briskly exited to the corridor, where she knew he’d wait, and stew, until she joined him.

 

Hermione turned to her friends, unsure what to say. “I...um…I better go. See you later.” They stared at her, speechless, as she rushed out of the room.

 

As soon as Hermione entered the corridor, Draco grabbed her arm and dragged her to the nearest empty classroom, muttering silencing charms before facing her.

 

Draco pushed her against the wall and pressed his mouth to hers, nibbling on her lower lip, his body melding to hers, his thigh sneaking between her legs. Pulling back, he stared at her.

 

Hermione swallowed. “What was _that_ for?”

 

“I wanted to be the last one to kiss you before I killed you. Now, _what_ ,” he asked, glaring down his nose at her, “is the meaning of this?”

 

Maybe the rumors weren't as bad as she’d thought. Suppressing a giggle, she decided to play dumb. “The meaning of what, Malfoy? You're the one who dragged me in here.”

 

 He growled. “Why are you calling me that? What's going on? We’ve been together more than nine months. Spent part of the holidays together. I thought everything was fine, and now everyone's saying you have a boyfriend? One who isn't _me_?”

 

This time, she did giggle.

 

“It's not funny, Hermione. Have you already tossed me aside for another? And Brown said you _shagged_ him! You’ve barely let me go further than under your shirt.”

 

Hermione sobered, realizing just how badly he'd taken the rumors. She touched his cheek and raised onto her tiptoes for a soft kiss. “Draco, there's nobody else. _You're_ my boyfriend. Those are just rumors that...I kind of started. On accident.”

 

He looked so befuddled, she couldn't help but kiss him again.

 

“How,” Draco cleared his throat, “did you _accidentally_ start a rumor about losing your virginity?”

 

This time, she burst into laughter. “Well, I blame _you,_ actually.” She met his eyes. “Don't give me that look. It really is all your fault. You sent me off to school with hickeys all over my neck! Ginny’s been hounding me for months about it. What did you expect me to tell her? Plus, everyone wants to set me up. Making up a boyfriend seemed like the easiest thing to do. How else could I have handled it?”

 

His silver eyes went icy. “Tell the truth, maybe? Or are you ashamed of me?”

 

“Draco, you know that's not it. I just want to have this—” she kissed him “—for a bit longer before everyone knows and makes our relationship their business. Can't we just let the rumors run their natural course until they fade away? Keeping this our little secret can be fun.”

 

She skimmed her hand up his chest and watched as his eyes clouded with lust.

 

“Fine,” he whispered, leaning in for another kiss. But Hermione hugged him and backed away.

 

“Great! Now I have to get some homework done.” She blew him a kiss and scurried away before he could protest.

 

Reaching the end of the corridor, she grinned. It would be fun to see how long it took Draco to crack.

 

* * *

 

 

He wasn’t sure how much longer he could take this. It had been a week since he’d somehow agreed to just ignore the rumors. They’d blow over, she claimed. But they hadn’t. And he knew he’d break at any moment.

 

Potions class was the worst. Draco hadn’t been lying when he told Loony and the Weaselette that he and Hermione were paired up. The new buzzword in the school was “unity,” and there just weren’t all that many eighth year students. 

 

Entering the classroom, Draco sat next to his girlfriend. And kept his hands to himself. Like always. Lavender Brown, the biggest thorn in his side, spun around to talk to Hermione.

 

“When are you going to tell us? Someone said the guy is older. Rich. Sexy. I want to see pictures! Give me the details.” Draco watched as Hermione listened to her, a grin spreading across her face. She was enjoying this too much. Payback for all the times he’d tortured her over the years.

 

After a quick glance his way, Hermione responded, “Well, he’s definitely sexy. A silver fox, some might say.” He could see the laughter that wanted to escape, but Brown didn’t pick up on it, just leaned closer, entranced by the fact that Granger, of all people, had a mysterious lover.

 

Grinding his teeth, Draco tried to ignore their conversation until Slughorn began lecturing.  Draco grabbed a piece of parchment and wrote, ‘ _A silver fox_?’ He slipped it to Hermione.

 

Reading the note, she giggled before jotting a reply and sliding it back to him. It said, ‘ _Well, it’s true. Your hair is almost silver. Though, maybe I should have said ferret instead._ ’

 

Narrowing his eyes, Draco glanced at her and saw the amusement on her face. She’d pay for that one later. Visions of spanking her went through is mind. If only the witch would allow him…

 

“Mr. Malfoy?” Draco looked up at the professor. “Would you care to join in on the potion brewing? You’ve been sitting there, letting Miss Granger do all the work for the past fifteen minutes.”

 

“Sorry,” Draco muttered and looked down at Hermione’s open Potions book.

 

“Here, chop this.” Hermione handed him an ingredient, her hand brushing his, the scent of her shampoo filling his nostrils. He wanted to lean forward and kiss her. But she was already turning back to the potion, hovering over it, her hair becoming frizzier with the humidity.

 

Merlin, this witch would be the death of him.

 

* * *

 

 

At dinner that night, Hermione sat with her friends at the Gryffindor table, trying to avoid her very persistent—and very peeved—boyfriend’s eyes. The past week had been fun, watching him stew in his jealousy as the whole school talked about the make-believe man she was in love with.

 

But it was getting old.

 

Unconsciously, she looked in Draco’s direction until their gazes met and held. It would be nice to stop hiding, to finally just tell the world. They’d been together for almost ten months now, and Hermione wanted to be able to hold his hand as they walked down the hall, share a kiss that wasn’t stolen. But would people understand? Would they accept it?

 

She’d barely been able to herself. It had happened so slowly, yet so suddenly, after the war.

 

_Standing with the Weasleys at Fred’s funeral, Hermione caught a flash of white-blond hair at the back of the crowd. At first, she didn’t believe her eyes. They were so blurry with tears that she must have been seeing things. Then she spotted it once more. Throughout the service, her eyes were drawn to him again and again._

_When it was over, everyone cleared out—except for Malfoy. He moved to the headstone, ignoring her presence, and placed a single rose on it._

_“Malfoy?” Hermione whispered._

_His head lifted, and a tearstained face came into view. Unable to stop herself, she reached out to brush one from his cheek, and he flinched away from her touch._

_Pulling her hand back, she asked, “What are you doing here?”_

_Malfoy’s voice cracked as he answered. “I had to see. I couldn’t believe it. All of the people who were lost…” He shook his head. “The only one I can’t process is Fred Weasley. You know, I was told my whole life to avoid the Weasley clan. They were poor blood traitors. Not worth a Malfoy’s time.” He turned away from Hermione and stared off into the distance. “But I’ve never met someone as...alive, as Fred. I respected him. Hoped to someday out-prank him.” He spun back around to face her, his usually cold eyes flashing with an emotion she’d never seen in him before. “With him gone, well, we all seem a little bit more mortal, don’t we?”_

For the next month, they’d met occasionally, just to talk, and Hermione came to know a side of him he’d never shown the rest of the world. But would her friends ever accept it?

 

She was snapped out of her memories when an owl pecked her hand. “Ouch!” she shouted, drawing the attention of everyone in the Hall. Ron’s owl stared at her and lifted its leg. Unwrapping the letter tied there, she gave the owl a piece of bread before it flew away.

 

“Is that from Ron?” Lavender asked. “I knew it! Silver fox? Yeah right. It was always Ron.”

 

Ginny’s jaw dropped.  “Is it? Is that why you didn’t tell me? Let me see that letter.” She tried to snatch it from Hermione’s hand, but she was too slow.

 

The commotion had brought all eyes to them, once again, and she could hear the whispers. Her gaze met Draco’s, and she could see that he was fuming.

 

* * *

 

 

“It’s Ron Weasley? That’s disappointing _and_ anticlimactic. Don’t you think, Draco?” He tried to ignore Pansy, to block out the whole Hall talking about _his_ girlfriend and the Weasel.

 

Blaise patted him on the back. “There, the mystery is solved, mate. She’s getting love letters from the ginger. We won’t have to hear about this again.” He smirked.

 

But Pansy prattled on. “I’m not surprised at all. Of course, that _oaf_ took the little prude’s virginity. Like I’ve said a thousand times, nobody wants that know-it-all. She’s sleeping with a guy who’s practically her brother. I—” She broke off as Draco stood. “Where are you going?” He left the table. “Draco!” she shrieked.

 

Aside from a small group of girls surrounding their bushy-haired friend, every eye in the Great Hall tracked Draco Malfoy as he walked to the Gryffindor table. Once again, he interrupted the Weaselette as she shot questions at Hermione. This time, though, he didn’t give an excuse. He didn’t care.

 

Hermione froze when he grabbed her hand, but she stood when he tugged it. And, suddenly, they were chest to chest with the whole school watching. Brown eyes stared into silver for a long moment—until he dipped his head and captured her lips with his.

 

It felt as if they were the only two people in the room. His lips moved over hers, and her tongue flicked into his mouth. He pulled her closer, hating that there was any barrier between them. When they finally broke apart, panting, he rested his forehead against hers. The world was silent.

 

Until it erupted in shouts and applause.

 

Looking around, Draco saw Gryffindor mouths hanging open, Slytherin stares shooting daggers their way, and Blaise laughing as Pansy looked on in horror.

 

“It’s about time you cracked,” Blaise shouted across the Hall.

 

“He knew?” Hermione whispered.

 

Draco shrugged. “Must have guessed.”

 

And then, Draco Malfoy shocked the room once more by climbing onto the table.  Using a spell to amplify his voice, he said, “In case anyone still doesn’t get it: Hermione Granger is _mine_. I’m the mystery boyfriend you’ve all been whispering about. And if I hear about her with anyone else ever again, I’ll hex the messenger.” He lifted her onto the table beside him. “Mine,” he growled.

 

“Yours, my jealous ferret,” Hermione said, chuckling.

 

And his mouth crashed onto hers once more.

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written for the Strictly Dramione Spring Fest 2017.
> 
> Special thanks to MrBenzedrine, who did a last minute beta read. You’re a life-saver!


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